[ There’s some relief with her words, some sort of salve to the burn that was left behind when she disappeared, when that 2 AM text had been the last attempt that still went ignored. She swallows roughly, wrapping her arms around her, pulling herself closer, holding her tightly, like she’s afraid one of them will disappear if she lets go. ]
I don’t want to not be friends. [ She wants more, so much more, but that’s the thought that terrifies her most. Keeping her just as a best friend is a safety net, a crutch she thinks will some how make her eventually leaving hurt less than if she let herself fully love her, and she knows how badly she’d fall apart if she was gone after all that. ] I don’t know how to not be friends.
[ She pulls back finally, reluctantly almost, looking at her fully again. ]
But Miramax, she said… a lot of concerning shit. Stuff I wish you’d told me yourself. I know that it was really you in there, that the virus was just making you think you were whatever else, which makes it that much more important, you know? I - I don’t want to make you feel like you’re not good enough, or not fun enough, or — [ She sighs, not sure where that ramble is taking her, what she wants to know. ]
I don’t want to only know how you’re really feeling when some spiked up fever hallucination tells me. You can ask me anything, tell me anything, even if it’s not something you think I’ll wanna hear; don’t just bottle it up and pretend everything’s fine when it isn’t. I can’t take anymore secrets from the people who care about me.
[ A beat as she realizes that she’s a bit hypocritical there. Maybe she hasn’t purposefully kept anything from her, but she also hasn’t gone out of her way to tell her about things either, or been fully honest when people ask her questions. ] And I - I promise that I’ll always answer whatever you ask honestly. No bullshit excuses.
no subject
I don’t want to not be friends. [ She wants more, so much more, but that’s the thought that terrifies her most. Keeping her just as a best friend is a safety net, a crutch she thinks will some how make her eventually leaving hurt less than if she let herself fully love her, and she knows how badly she’d fall apart if she was gone after all that. ] I don’t know how to not be friends.
[ She pulls back finally, reluctantly almost, looking at her fully again. ]
But Miramax, she said… a lot of concerning shit. Stuff I wish you’d told me yourself. I know that it was really you in there, that the virus was just making you think you were whatever else, which makes it that much more important, you know? I - I don’t want to make you feel like you’re not good enough, or not fun enough, or — [ She sighs, not sure where that ramble is taking her, what she wants to know. ]
I don’t want to only know how you’re really feeling when some spiked up fever hallucination tells me. You can ask me anything, tell me anything, even if it’s not something you think I’ll wanna hear; don’t just bottle it up and pretend everything’s fine when it isn’t. I can’t take anymore secrets from the people who care about me.
[ A beat as she realizes that she’s a bit hypocritical there. Maybe she hasn’t purposefully kept anything from her, but she also hasn’t gone out of her way to tell her about things either, or been fully honest when people ask her questions. ] And I - I promise that I’ll always answer whatever you ask honestly. No bullshit excuses.